Not for me Please
by whumpluvr
Summary: If one of Batman's boys were to be taken down, it would NOT be to save him. That was a rule, wasn't it? Nightwing pretends he's a shield and now they need to figure out how to save his life. (A/N Sorry, first couple chapters aren't great, I'll rewrite them when I'm done)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own these guys...or...really hardly anything. Especially DC characters.

A/N: WOW, first story in a while. Prepare for tons of inaccuracies and typos. No beta and not enough knowledge about the universe and its characters to really write an accurate fanfiction...but I'm attempting.

This is Young Justice/Batman universe. As in...Young Justice universe with Red Hood, Red Robin, and Lil' D and Barbara as Batgirl. Why? Cause I have relatively no exposure to her as Oracle in the YJ universe. Only in the Batman one. I could make this Batman universe, but I know YJ more. Takes place after Invasion (since I have the bro's in it)...and lets pretend some of the last episode occurrences didn't happen? Like the death of Wally? Ya...ignoring that.

Please let me know what my mistakes are so I can fix them. Thank you!

Edited: 6/6/13 - I kept switching from 1st- 3rd. And tried to make the format more readable.

* * *

He was angry, confused, and _scared_.

Throughout Gotham, the name Batman brought people peace, hope and security. Unless, of course, you were a criminal. Then it could run your blood cold and tighten your chest so hard that you could hardly breath.

There were not many people capable of messing with _The Batman_.

The few who actually could were accounted for. Whereabouts mostly known, and what they were up to (for the most part). They kept a close tab on activity in the city and who was controlling it. It was part of the job of being a vigilante. It was a tough job, but it had to be done. Commissioner and his men couldn't handle the city alone.

So when you're patrolling Bludhaven on a regular day and your emergency alert button goes off, it comes as an unpleasant surprise. First, he's terrified that it's Barbara. Or Tim. Maybe even Damian, though since he was usually with Batman he hardly feared for his safety.

He didn't expect it to be Batman.

"Damian?" He's immediately on his comm. "Damian, what's going on?"

No answer.

"Nightwing?" A voice rings through. It's Tim.

"Red, what's going on?" he asks urgently, running towards his bicycle a couple blocks over.

"I don't know. I can't get ahold of Robin or Batman. I was hoping you knew something. I'll call Batgirl."

"Don't bother," Dick huffed, his anxiety growing. "I just talked to her an hour ago. She's still in California visiting family. They extended it by a day."

"Perfect," Tim groaned. "I'm almost to the Bat Cave. I'll send you coordinates the signal is coming from in a couple minutes."

"Hurry."

* * *

The signal was coming from a spot in Gotham that was relatively nice (for Gotham, that is). Red Robin explained to Nightwing on the way over that the Dynamic Duo was checking out some neighborhood robberies that got someone killed. Nothing major, nothing dangerous. What could have gone wrong was beyond Red Robin's guess.

They were only 20 feet from where the signal emitted, it was probably the darkest alleway in the district, next to, of course, the only abandoned building for the next several blocks.

"Batman!" Tim hissed. "Robin!"

Nightwing had almost reached the end of the alleyway when he saw a body laying next to a few discarded boxes and garbage next to a dumpster.

"Robin!" Nightwing cried, kneeling down and grabbing the boy and cradling him in his lap. The young Wayne's head rolled to the side, blood dripping from his nose and large contusion on his forehead. Dick shook him hard in attempts to rouse him.

"Robin!" he called again as he reached for a pulse. It was there, and steady. Tim was leaning over his replacement checking for other injuries. Nightwing looked over at him, pleadingly. Tim just shook his head, indicating no other serious wounds.

"Stay with him. I'm looking for Batman,"Dick said as he stood up and left Damian in his little brothers arms. In seconds he was inside the building, searching from the shadows.

The place was a mess. Obvious signs of a serious skuffle. No signs of anyone. He found a utility belt and a few weapons that belonged hidden somewhere on Batman's person.

Batman was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N:

I didn't notice how pathetically short the previous chapter was. Ugh. Ah well, better than zilch, ey?

I'm really not liking this story so far, guys. My apologies that is sucks. But the whole point of this fanfiction writing from me is to get better at writing overall, and get some good whump in that I want.

I'm thinking of doing a story with one shot chapters so I don't have to have "plot." What do ya'll think? I would probably take requests. I think.

* * *

Tim watched as Damian woke with a groan. The young Robin was laying down on the med table in the Bat Cave with Alfred leaning over him. A glass of water in hand.. His only injury was a minor concussion, thankfully. Dick was over at the computer doing more research about the job Batman was working on that evening.

"Master Damian, drink this," Alfred encouraged as he helped the young boy up. Dick was immediately on his feet and putting his hands on Damian shoulder almost as fast as the Flash could have.

"Hey, Lil' D, how you feeling?" he asked, concerned. Damian swat his hands away and drank the water greedily. Tim walked over and the three of them waited for him to finish.

"Father has been taken." He said simply, putting the glass down. "We must hurry. The imbeciles disclosed the location they were taking him to while they thought I was indisposed."

"Really?" Tim asked, surprised.

"Like I said, imbeciles. Imbeciles with tech that momentarily disabled Father and I while they striped us of our weapons, then proceeded to take him while they knocked me out. It was some sort of sonic gun they used at first. It completely rendered us incapable for moments. Long enough for them to remove our things and do enough damage to Father and I to make escape difficult. The taser used on Father was high grade, definitely not easily obtained."

Dick chuckled lightly. "Sounds painful, but Batman could easily disable these weapons with enough time and energy. And he needs us to rescue him?"

The young Robin's face held no emotion as he replied. "Probably not. But we cannot ignore the possibility that whoever supplied them with these weapons has others,. These men were obviously trying to kill him. They were taking him to the docks to finish the job, and whoever is in charge could be present and more capable."

Tim shifted uncomfortably. "Then why are we wasting time? Let's go!"

"Young Master, I insist that you stay here and rest. A mild concussion or not is still a concussion." Alfred piped in, authoritatively. "Master Dick and Tim can handle this alone."

Damian hissed. "My head does throb, so if you insist. I'm sure Grayson and someone as incapable as Drake could handle it fine."

"You're so encouraging." Tim mumbled and Alfred gave Damian a disapproving look.

"Tell us where we're going Lil' D." Dick ordered as he headed towards the bikes.

"I'll tell you if you promise to stop calling me that."

Dick laughed hard. "No promises."

* * *

Despite what many people would think, not many of Batman's super villains wanted Batman dead. Not fighting crime? Yes. But dead, not so much. Ra's al Ghul found Batman not only a worthy opponent, but really at this point had to consider killing him out of the question due to family matters. Joker, as much as he loved killing Robin's wouldn't dream of getting rid of his favorite play toy. Two-Face had only a 50/50 chance of wanting to kill him at any moment, so that was unpredictable. Other villains were locked up, and a few loose...but the list gets smaller when you involve high tech.

Nowhere in Gotham was silent at night, especially the docks. But when they reached the place that Damian had said they were going, it was practically empty. The workers had either been scared off or paid off.

Inside the shipping warehouse, a hole in the floor had been blasted open. It lead directly into the current that swept right into the middle of the bay. Directly hanging over it was Batman, covered nearly head to toe in heavy chains. Standing on a platform nearly thirty feet away was a man, completely covered in black with little more than his eyes showing. He stood, holding a device. Probably what controlled the thing that held Batman suspended in air. The whole scene was so cliche, Nightwing balked.

"It isn't personal Batman, but I couldn't refuse the money." The figure continued from the monologue he must have started before Tim and Dick snuck into the warehouse. His voice was thick with an eastern european accent. "With what I'll be getting with your demise, I could easily build my kingdom."

"Tell me who is giving you the money, and maybe I'll find a way to match it." Batman asked. Nightwing smirked.

"Sorry, confidentiality," the man replied with an air of boredom.

"I'd like to know who has a price on my head before I die. Or is your client scared that if I don't die I'll go after him?"

Nightwing could almost hear the humor in his voice. He relaxed knowing that Batman had the situation under control.

"You wish," the man said as he released the button. "I will not be failing today."

Nightwing readied himself as Batman took the plunge. Tim, as quietly as they had entered, had started to move towards the man who held their mentor captive. A large splash was heard as the chains hit the water. Batman's escape could have hardly been seen by an untrained eye.

All hell broke loose.

The hefty thugs that surrounded the man made pool jumped into action. The captor above hardly seemed surprised, and had an aura of anger and amusement. "Get him!" He shouted and the thugs were onto Batman within seconds. Nightwing came out of hiding and grappled his way down to join the the fray. Tim emerged from the shadows and attacked the boss.

As soon as Nightwing hit the ground, he heard a loud screeching in his ears that brought him to the floor. If he didn't know better, he would have guess Black Canary's imaginary cousin was there. Swiftly he pressed a button on the contraption covering his ears and he was fine. He pulled out an extra set for Batman, who was also struggling on the floor as the thugs (who were apparently wearing something similar) kicked at him. Surprisingly, Batman was getting up and attacking, despite what Nightwing had experienced as uncontrollable pain and disorientation. But he was _The Batman_, after all.

After making eye contact with Bruce, Dick threw him the earpiece and began attacking the thugs, keeping in mind the tasers they were pulling out. He took a second to look over at how Tim was faring.

Red Robin, though up to par couldn't land a man in black had some serious training, and hardly looked concerned that he was being attacked. In between punches and kicks from Tim he would spout out another order.

"Nightwing!" he heard, suddenly in his ear, after he went back to fighting the thugs. The thugs, though idiots as Damian had pointed out, were quick, strong and well equipped.

"Red?" he relayed, confirming he heard.

"He's got another plan. He just motioned to another man across the warehouse, southeast corner. He's sounding pretty confident. I've got my hands full."

"On it." Nightwing replied, flipping over a few guys and looking in the direction Tim had indicated. A man was sitting the rafters, with some sort of large gun aimed.

Before he could ascertain much more than that, or go after him, he heard a loud slam in the direction Tim and the black clad dude were fighting. He looked around to see what had happened, while keeping some attention on the man with the gun, waiting for another signal or movement.

The man in charge had Tim on the ground on the platform, his large boot on the ex Robin's chest, a small gun aimed at his head. Tim was sluggishly rolling his head side to side.

"Call in all the backup you want, Batman. I'll still get what I want. The collateral even makes it easier," he said, with the same amusement/anger he was talking in before. Sometimes that is what scared a hero the most. If the bad guy thought he was winning, even if it looked like he wasn't, there was usually something he knew that you didn't.

Then Nightwing remembered the gun.

Batman had paused momentarily. "Let him go, Trafkensk."

Trafkensk? The name was familiar, but he couldn't place the name to anyone.

"Don't worry, Batman. You won't care for much longer." As he said that, his eyes flickered upwards and he made a small signal with his hand. Nightwing hadn't even realized till that moment that he was already moving in the direction of Batman. There were a lot of thoughts running through his head, though. He should have just taken the gunman out when he had the chance, instead of getting distracted by his little brother getting pummeled. That sounded a lot easier to say that do, though. Really, he didn't think he had more than a split second to get between the gun and his father. He doubted the bullet could pierce his kevlar suit, but with it aimed assuredly at Batman's heart, he was sure his shoulder would be a safer place for impact if the bullet was made of something stronger. Batman could have also known about the gunman, and moved in time...but Nightwing really didn't want to take the chance. This man was out for Batman's blood, and he would not have it.

Before he could even be slightly relieved that he made it in time, and that his efforts had not been in vain because Batman was only turning around at the sound of the gun firing, he recognized that whatever had been shot was indeed not a regular bullet.

His last thought as pain erupted from every single cell in his body was that if this didn't end up killing him, Batman most assuredly would.

* * *

Ok, this should hopefully be the last chapter I have to painfully write. I don't care who the badguy is or what he's doing. I don't care about the action scenes in this. So...I was in a hurry to write something plausible and could get a plot. Really, I know it sucks. Deal.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone! Sorry this update took over a week. I was camping, and then I decided to try a little harder to make the writing better. Thank you for those who reviewed :) You are all very sweet 3 This is for you guys**

* * *

He was concentrating on the lulling head of his 3rd son when all body language of the men surrounding him indicated action behind him. He turned, arms drawn and ready when he felt something large collide with him, sending him flying almost ten feet. While he was flung backwards through the air, in the 2.5 seconds it took, he deduced what had happened.

The object that had been thrown into him was Nightwing, and whatever had done it was powerful (hence being thrown just over ten feet). He also noticed as they landed, Nightwing on top of him, that his oldest was completely limp. Deciding that he was unharmed by the impact, he sat up, dragging the upper body of Dick with him as he did, and contemplated his next move. All at once his senses took in the surroundings. Trafkensk was screaming above him. Very angry disappointed screaming by an obviously raving lunatic who's plan had been throttled. Under normal circumstances, that sound was usually like music to his ears. Considering, though, that it was because his son had taken whatever shot had been made for him, there was no celebration to be had in that.

Next to Trafkensk, Tim laid unmoving, and Batman wasn't sure if he was unconscious or just injured.

The henchmen that were still standing from the previous battle were advancing on him. Normally he would have been up and at them, but the limp body in his arms concerned him. Nightwing was completely limp. Not 'ouch, give me a minute Batman' kind of limp that in moments would have his boys wiggling like a fish in his arms when they were injured worse than they wanted to admit. No, the boneless heap in his arms had absolutely no assisting muscles at all.

He was between a rock an hard place. Could he fight and manage to keep his boys alive at the same time? What if Dick needed immediate assistance? What if Trafkensk managed to kill Tim before he could get there?

Before he got the chance to choose, he heard another shot ring out and noticed that the angry yelling had stopped.

"Nice shot, boy, but you'll have to try harder than that," Trafkensk growled, landing from a jump. An all too recognizable figure stepped out of the shadows, holding a gun, and landed a hefty kick into the henchman closest to Batman. Bruce couldn't remember a time when he was more happy to see his wayward son show up shooting a gun.

There was a loud whistle and almost immediately Trafkensk's men started retreating. Within seconds the warehouse was empty except for the Bat clan, with a voice echoing a goodbye.

"This isn't over Batman."

Every instinct in Batman told him to follow after. Capture the man and bring him to Justice. Interrogate him. Do anything to stop him. But the burden in his arms kept him still.

For the first time since Nightwing had been thrown into him, Batman could finally take a moment to look over him.

"Red Hood, check Red Robin," he ordered.

"The kids' fine. Getting up off his lazy ass now."

"What are you doing here, Hood?" Tim called, clearly irritated. He jumped down beside Batman as Jason stepped forward.

"Heard some hired gun was out to kill Bats tonight. Thought I would come and enjoy the show." He said simply. "Didn't think I'd actually have to save your butts or anything."

"We were fine," Tim growled, and as he did he looked over at his mentor and fallen brother, and his eyes grew wide. "Nightwing!"

Dick was still as limp and still as he had been the moment he was thrown into Batman only minutes before. Really had it only been minutes? It had felt like hours.

There were no outward wounds, nothing he could see to explain his unconsciousness. There was no entrance wound from whatever gun had been used. It had obviously not used bullets. What had it been? The idea of what it could be terrified him.

He covered Nightwing with his cape and did something he rarely did. Ripping off Nightwings mask, he needed to get a look at his face. What he saw ran his blood cold.

For a moment Bruce thought he was dead, half lidded eyes staring completely unseeing. But he could hear him breathing, though shallow, and a quick check to his pulse proved a slow heartbeat. Not great, but he wasn't crashing.

He'd seen dead eyes, before. And Dicks eyes were dead.

"What's wrong? He's fine, isn't he? He's not bleeding," Tim said, stepping closer. Bruce hurried and ran his fingers over Dick's eyes and closed them before Tim could see.

"I don't know," Batman answered.

"I demand to know what is going on here. Is Golden boy dead?" Jason's asked casually, his voice echoing through the warehouse. If Jason had not been exactly like him, he would have never known that inwardly Jason was also scared to death.

"No."

"No? You mean no thanks to you?" Jason's voice raised. "What were you doing exactly when this happened? Letting Nightwing take a bullet for you?"

"Now isn't the time," Bruce hissed as he put his arm under Dick's knees. Bridal style was not the easiest way to carry someone, nor was it the humble way, but Dick wasn't coherent enough to know and it was the best way to jostle him the least. He just didn't know what was going on, and he didn't want to take any chances. "Tim, call Alfred. Tell him to get Leslie over at the Batcave asap."

Thankfully, Tim and Dick had driven the batmobile over in case they needed it. If the situation had gone any smoother than it had, Jason was sure Batman would have taken Dick's emergency key.

Once they got to the batmobile, Batman opened the back seat and motioned Tim to crawl in. Before placing Nightwing in he looked back at Jason with his famous bat talk and asked 'are you coming?' with no words.

Jason shrugged and threw his hands up. "Whatever. Someone who didn't screw up tonight needs to make sure Dickie-bird makes it through this." And with that he crawled into the backseat and helped Batman lay Nightwing across his legs, with his head in Tim's lap.

Tim wasted no time in looking Dick over more carefully, and Jason was grateful for that. Jason knew the basics when it came to someone getting injured and how to treat it, but everything else he left up to Alfred. Tim and Bruce knew a little bit more than that. But Bruce hadn't divulged any information. Tim was more talkative.

"Who was that guy?" Jason asked once Bruce had gotten in and was making his way to the manor.

"Trafkensk, a very specialized hitman from Russia. Leads a small group of rebels and is trying to create his own country," Batman answered automatically. "Honestly haven't bothered learning more than that. The man hasn't taken jobs outside Asia and Europe and stays under the radar."

Tim was tapping Dick's cheeks and calling his name in different tones as he probed his chest. The complete unresponsiveness unnerved Jason. "Did he hint to who hired him?" he asked, trying to distract himself.

"A little. It had nothing to do with Gotham, that I gathered. I suspect this goes above that and all the way to the league."

"The Justice League?" Jason raised an eyebrow, and noticed from the corner of his eye that Tim had a small penlight out. "Does that mean your superhero friends have hitman on them too?"

"I don't-"

"Does no one care that something is seriously wrong with Nightwing?" Tim interrupted, practically screeching. "There is no injury anywhere that I can find. Nothing to explain why he's unconscious. And his eyes! Bruce! His eyes aren't responding at all to light! Do you know what that could mean, Bruce? This doesn't make sense-"

"Tim, please," Batman rasped. "We have no idea-"

"- and you guys are just going on about who that guy is, and who hired him and whatnot! Who cares right now!? Shouldn't we be going after that guy with the gun? I need to get my hands on that gun!"

"Tim!" Jason yelled, shaking him. He stopped shouting and took a deep breath. His hand was curled around Nightwings.

"Tim," Bruce started again. "It's all connected. Someone supplied Trafkensk with that gun. We find out who that is, we can get that gun a lot easier."

"Easier?" Tim gasped. "We need faster!"

"Master Bruce," Alfred's voice came over the batmobile speakers. Jason looked outside the car to find that they were pulling into the Batcave. That was unbelievably fast. What speed was Batman going?!

"Is Leslie here?"

"She is on her way, sir. But I am surprised to see you driving. I was under the impression she was coming for you." They had pulled completely into the Batcave, and they could see Alfred waiting nearby with his headset on.

"No, Alfred."

As the car came to a stop, Jason wasted no time in getting out and running around to the other side where Tim was quickly pulling Dick out on his own. Dick was short and lean, sure, but he was also very muscular and Tim was still a teen.

"Master Richard!" Alfred gasped, motioning Jason and Tim, who were carrying Dick between them, over to the med table he had readied.

"What happened to Grayson?" Damian's voice rang out grumpily as he entered the Batcave. He was in his pajamas and he looked like he had just woken up.

"We'll explain later, Damian. Alfred, how close is Leslie?" Bruce asked as they started to unzip Nightwings suit.

"I'm afraid sir that we haven't put a tracker on her quite yet," Alfred replied with a little hint of sarcasm. "It's the middle of the night, so I would give her a couple more minutes."

"I demand I be explained to now," Damian marched up to the group, determined. "This was supposed to be simple. Why is Grayson unconscious? What is wrong? He looks ok to me."

"We don't know what is wrong, Damian," Tim answered impatiently. "And I'm not exactly sure what happened. Trafkensk, the guy who hired those guys that captured Batman earlier, got a good hit to my head and I missed a good couple minutes."

"I got there after it happened," Jason hurried and explained before the brat could ask him.

"Father?" he asked, glaring.

"Where is Leslie?!" Bruce practically yelled, a growl in his voice. Luckily, just as he said that, Leslie's arrival was being announced via zeta tube.

"Tell me what's happened," she jogged in. Everyone looked to Bruce in agreement and Bruce tried to relax as she began attending Dick.

He explained everything as he saw it, with TIm and Jason filling in their own parts.

Not a second later Leslie was shooing them all away. He needed to work without them looking over her shoulder. She was more efficient that way.

"I'm calling the league," Batman said as he made his way over to the computer.

"I can't believe you call yourselves heroes. Letting those fools get the better of you tonight," Damian huffed angrily before Batman turned and started the call to the watchtower.

"This all happened really fast, Damian. We didn't have much time to come up with a plan. Plus, we had no idea who we were dealing with. It's not like you fared any better than we did." Tim defended.

"T-t"

The three brothers stood there in silence while Leslie and Alfred worked on one side of the Batcave and Batman was talking with various league members on the other side. It felt like forever before Bruce ended his call and approached them.

"No one else has been attacked as far as they know. They are looking into it right now." Batman started. "I'll be doing what I can on this end."

"Bruce," Leslie suddenly said, making her way over to them.

"What is the status, Leslie?"

Her expression was unreadable. "I'm sorry Bruce. I don't know what to tell you. I don't really know what is going on. The only thing I can tell you is this. His brain is completely unresponsive, and his vitals are slowly dropping. The closest thing I can call what is happening is a coma."

"What kind of coma?" Tim asked solemnly.

It looked like all light in her eyes had disappeared. "One I don't know if he'll wake from. He's dying."

* * *

**I know next to nothing about medical stuff. Sorry**

**The more I write this I wonder if I should change the category to Batman. What do you guys think?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Finally feeling like I'm getting into the groove of things. This chapter was much easier to write than all my others.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed and followed :) Made my day. **

* * *

This could not be happening!

Bruce was brooding. Really, it was what he did best. Even the setting was perfect, with dim lights and his unconscious son lying in his bed beside him, their calloused hands intertwined. Bruce was not one for physical touch, usually, but he knew that his son was. It was no uncommon for the dark knight to hold his son's hand when he was injured or sick many years ago. It comforted the young boy, and inwardly it comforted Bruce too, he just would never admit it. For now he could say he was doing it for Dick.

They had moved him up to his old room, since the cave was really not the most comfortable place. They had a few vital monitors and an IV hooked up to him, but other than that his son looked like he was just sleeping.

Except he wasn't at all.

Martian Manhunter confirmed it. Not that he didn't trust Leslie, he was just hoping for some input from the telepath. It was only a couple moments before the alien looked up at him, his hand upon his son's forehead and he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Bruce. I cannot find him at all. He is gone."

That had scared him more than what Leslie had admitted in cave yesterday. Gone? Doesn't gone mean dead? Then why did his heart beat? He breathed with no assistance. He was more than glad that he did, but he was lost as to what was happening. The detective that he was hated not knowing what was going on. His son was more than in just a coma, he was basically a vegetable. Those words had been the source of a fight between his sons.

"Drake, stop being an idiot," his youngest grumbled as they all sat around Dick's bedside only hours before. Tim was talking to Dick about what was going on. How they were chasing after Trafkensk and where the investigation was leading them. "He can't hear you!" Damian finished.

"What if he can?!" Tim seethed.

"There is no brain activity! He might as well be dead!" And with that Damian marched out of the room. Tim's face was growing redder by the second.

"That little-!" his fists were shaking. "Does he even care? Would he rather him be dead so he isn't taking up space in the manor?!"

"Chill, replacement," Jason grumbled. "He's just dealing with it how he does everything. It's probably better than weeping over his bedside like his lover or something."

"Oh, that's just great coming from the brother that-"

"Take is somewhere else." Bruce interrupted, his face completely passive. Both Jason's and Tim's eyes widened slightly, but they were quiet. Bruce hardly ever came between them fighting. It was Dick who was always doing that. Bruce really never seemed to care before, even though he really did. But he knew he wasn't really one to talk, for his fought with each of his sons just as badly at times.

His boys always bickered more when Dick was out of commision, and this situation proved no differently.

"Bruce," a voice said from behind him. He had been sitting in the dark in his son's bedroom, undisturbed, for several hours as he thought and contemplated the situation, slowly and methodically rubbing his thumb against Dick's hand and periodically caressing his son's forehead and face. He hadn't heard the figure step in, or see the shadow in the doorway.

"Bruce," Clark said again. "You haven't left this room since he's been brought here."

"Your point?"

"Well..." he started walking fully into the room and standing beside Bruce. "I thought you might care about the developments the league and your sons have been making in the investigation down in the Cave."

"They know what kind of gun it is?" Bruce's asked knowingly.

"...No, but we think-"

"Then I don't care."

Bruce could hear a sound coming from Clark's throat that didn't sound particularly happy, but when he felt a hand on his shoulder he knew the boy scout was trying to keep his cool.

"But we found something that could lead us there very quickly." He continued. "Don't loose hope."

Bruce tensed his shoulders. "Who said I was loosing hope?"

Clark ignored him. "I know you blame yourself for this, but don't. Nightwing knew what he was doing."

"How else could you look at it?" Bruce growled, finally turning to look at Clark. "I wasn't taking Trafkensk seriously, and my guard was down. He succeeded in distracting me with Tim. I failed yesterday, Clark, and my son paid for it. Possibly with his life."

Clark just looked at him, wishing that the situation was different. "So you are going to sit in here and mope?"

"My sons are doing fine without me," Bruce replied as he turned back around and fumbled with Dick's blanket and tucked it around him tighter. It probably didn't look like fumbling to anyone who saw it, but it felt like it to Bruce.

"Investigating, yes, but only cause' you aren't doing it yourself, and they aren't sure what to think of that," Clark grumbled. "You, the Dark Knight, the man who doesn't stop at anything to bring the bad guys to justice, sitting playing beside vigil? You might as well tell them that you think Dick is already dead."

"It's my fault Clark."

They were both quiet for a couple moments, the only sound in the room the heart monitor beeping slowly and methodically to prove that Dick's heart was in fact still beating. Finally Clark cleared his throat. "Did you want to hear what we found out or not?"

Bruce took a deep breath. "Fine. Shoot."

"We found the order to get rid of you. It originated from the states, and the sum for your death or permanent incapacitation was in the millions. That narrows our suspects, Bruce. Jason is talking to some of his...um...friends in the underworld...to see if he can get any clues to who issued the bounty. Tim's trying to singulate the area it originated from. If we find out who, then we can find out what that gun did."

Bruce just nodded. "Any sign of Trafkensk?"

Clark frowned. "No."

Bruce's reached down and brushed his hand against Dick's forehead and brought the hand he was holding over his son's chest and laid it there as he stood up. "We'll see about that."

He waited as Alfred exited the room, went down the hallway and down the stairs. Once he was gone, he slipped from his hiding place and with the grace and stealth that was a bat, made his way silently across the hallway and stood in front of the room that held the unconscious vigilante. Without moving his head, he looked about the room for any signs of other visitors that he might have missed in his calculations. None. The coast was clear. He made his way quickly to the bed.

"Grayson," he climbed upon the bed, avoiding the limbs of his older brother as he leaned over him. "Grayson."

No response. He figured as much.

"Don't be such a wuss," he huffed, pouting. "I thought you liked being an acrobat, flying through the air and making a fool of yourself. You can't do that while you lay around on this bed. You won't even need your brain, really. You hardly use it anyway." Dick made no movement. This was the most still Damian had ever seen him. His eyes were closed in a relaxed way, not tight like he usually did when he was unconscious, and his lips parted slightly showing the teeth he was so used to seeing when Dick was trying to charm someone with his smile. He hated it when he did that, but he'd let him do it now if he would just wake up! He'd even let him hug him and call him his annoying pet name if he would just open his eyes for a second and say it!

It was then he heard a slight noise and whooshing sound. He had been prepared to hide or escape the moment he heard someone coming, but he didn't think it would be one of the fastest men alive.

"Lil Robin!" Wally's voice echoed through the room. "Fancy seeing you here."

"West," he said, disgusted. "I should have known you would show up."

"Can I have a turn to snuggle with him?" Wally's eye gleamed mischievously.

Damina remembered that he was leaning over his brother, only his feet hanging off the bed. He immediately sat up and backed off the bed, folding his arms. "I wasn't doing anything of the sort, numskull! I simply heard a noise and was investigating. We can stop all the attention the manor is getting if he'd just man up!" And with that he stomped past the speedster. As he passed him, Wally grabbed his arm and looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

"Don't worry," he said softly. "It's Dick. He'll come through."

Damian jerked his arm away. "I'm not worried!"

"Whatever you say."

As he left the room, Roy was coming up the stairs. Great, what is this? A team reunion? He sneered at him as he quickly walked by and ran down the stairs. Roy just shook his head and walked into the room where Wally had taken to the seat beside the bed.

"What's that little dude's problem? Beside the usual?" he rolled his eyes.

Wally just laughed. "Caught red handed, that's what."

Clark, Tim, Jason and Diana were standing in the Cave discussing that latest news when the batmobile pulled in and Batman jumped out. As he walked towards him, he pulled his cowl down and took off his gloves.

"Batman, we think we know who hired Trafkensk." Clark said as he got closer.

Batman smirked, "I think I know too. Luthor."

It was the same conclusion the others had come to, except of course, Batman had gotten the information in only a half day. Clark and Diana smiled, glad that Batman was back. Tim looked at him anxiously. Batman, reading him, continued.

"Trafkensk was only too willing to tell me what I needed to know after a little...well...persuasion." He was walking over to the computer and sat down, typing away quickly.

"Did he tell you what the gun was?" Jason asked.

Bruce glared. "Yes and no. He knows what it does, but he didn't know anything other than that, including how to reverse the effects."

"Tell us Batman," Diana pleaded.

"It does exactly what we've seen it do. It completely shuts off all brain activity, leaving the victim completely useless. He said Luthor wanted me incapacitated. He wanted me dead, and if he couldn't manage that, the gun was backup."

Everyone took a moment to let that sink in. Bruce had been reeling since he walked away from Trafkensk's broken body. Sure, Luthor was the enemy, but what would he gain to put the bounty on him instead of superman?

"He had no idea how to reverse the effects of the gun?" Diana asked.

"No."

"Luthor might," Jason growled.

"And you expect to get the information out of him, how?" Tim asked, helplessly. "It's Luthor!"

Diana stepped over and put a hand on the robin's shoulder. "We'll figure out a way, Tim."

"We just need to think of something that will make Luthor cooperate." Clark piped in.

"And we need to do it fast," Batman nodded. "Dick's body is only functioning with involuntary reflexes. If his entire body decides to shut down, he'll be on life support. And after that, I don't know." With that, he turned back to the computer. "If we are going to go after Luthor, we need to play it smart."

"You have a plan?" Diana raised her eyebrows questioningly.

He nodded. "Yes. But we'll need more people."

* * *

** There you go! Feel free to review, it always makes my day :) Also, I'm thinking of doing a YJ/DC tumblr blogs thingy. And maybe I can do some fanart for this fic. Would people like that? If enough people tell me so, I might do the later (the first I am doing anyway. You should just be cool and follow me. You could follow my regular tumblr account too, if you want. I could use more followers.)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry, this chapter is a little short (and not my fav cause I had to add plot. I haven't been in the mood for plot. Just pure fluff and whump). Enjoy!**

* * *

"You look beautiful tonight. Like the look."

She turned and looked over at her boyfriend as he spoke, raising her eyebrow at him. "Oh really? I didn't think red was my color."

He smiled stupidly. "I like red."

"You want me to dye my hair?"

At that his eyes widened. "What? Oh heck no. You are most beautiful when you look exactly like YOU. I was just saying that you look beautiful no matter what...of course."

She smirked, "Good answer, baywatch. Now can we get back to the mission? This is important."

Wally immediately whipped his head over to the doors across the street. "I do great at multitasking babe."

"Sure, sure."

They were silent for a couple moments before he sighed. "I don't even know if this plan is going to work."

"It's the only one we have while Martian Manhunter and Green Lantern are researching," Artemis said as she scowled. "Unless you'd just rather sit around."

"No, I'll do anything for him," he whispered, gazing intently at the Metropolis downtown office center in which Luthor was currently attending a meeting. "He's my best friend."

"Wonder Woman to Kid Flash and Tigress," a voice chirped in their ears.

"Copy."

"The meeting just ended. Be ready."

"On it."

Artemis reached for her bag and turned the remote on, nodding to Wally. "Let's see what we can find out."

* * *

When Jason entered the first boy wonders room, he saw Alfred tucking Dick under the covers. He watched him as he methodically moved Dick's head to rest comfortably on the pillow, pull his lifeless arms out of the blanket and lay them down by his sides gently. He laid a kiss on his 'grandsons' head and patted his hand. Jason didn't really see most of that, though. He was too busy looking at the contraption around Dick's face.

"He's not breathing?" he asked, stepping closer. To his credit, Alfred wasn't surprised. He picked up on hearing when the bats walked around the house, no matter how silent it was.

"He is, actually. But only slightly. This is to keep his oxygen levels at a safe point. I don't think it will be long before he won't though. His body is growing tired." He said sadly as he looked over at his other 'grandson.'

"This is a so f-...messed up Alfred." He said (and corrected himself when remember who he was talking to) as he sat down on the chair beside the bed. Alfred had made his way to the door.

"Indeed Master Todd," he nodded. Before he stepped out, he paused. "Oh, sir, you have finished for the night? Any new developments?"

Jason shook his head. "No. I'm going back out in an hour to a restaurant Luthor frequents. And so far I haven't heard any developments. He's asked about what happened that night, but no leaks into details about the gun. He even has the balls to joke about it at times when we're certain he knows Bats is watching."

"I see." Alfred dipped his head slightly. "I'm sure he'll slip up soon, though, Master Todd," and with that he walked out.

He sat in the dark for a while. A lot longer than he planned on staying, for he just initially stopped by just to see how his big brother was doing. But the breathing mask over his mouth had shook him. He tried his hardest to act like he didn't care, but it really didn't fool certain people (curse Alfred and Dick). Hence he came while he knew Alfred was the only one home.

"Ok, Dickie bird..." he started, folding his arms. He was not the touchy type, for sure. "This family is unbearable enough with you a part of it. Can't imagine what would happen if you weren't."

* * *

Tim was laying on his side up against the unresponsive form of his older brother, his top arm wrapped around his waist. He never thought he would miss the hugs Dick was always giving him.

Other people had walked in and out of the room throughout the day, but Tim had decided to take his day off from surveillance and spend it all day with Dick. What else could he do, really? Every spot frequented by Luthor was being monitored. He always had a hero following him. It was only logical that he would eventually have to have an exchange with the owner of the alien tech he used, right? That is what he thought at first. But after three days of no success he was starting to seriously doubt the plan. Luthor was too good.

He had done his homework for a couple hours before he climbed into bed next to his brother and layed there.

At several points throughout the day people would come in and out, doing their own personal check on the downed hero. Tim wondered if they would do the same if he were in that situation. He knew probably not. Dick had been around the longest of any protege to the Justice League. They would always hold a special place in their hearts. He was always looking out for people and making friends too. And...um...winning the hearts of the ladies. He wondered if even Wonder Woman had a secret crush on him, if he were only older.

Conversations had gone on a lot of the time he had been up there, but a particular one caught his interest.

"Batman, we need to talk about this." It sounded like it was Ollie.

"I know what you are going to say."

"Then you know we have no choice. We can't do this forever, and our cities are suffering." That was Flash. Was everyone here?

"I know."

"I'm sorry, Bruce."

What?! He jumped up, almost hitting one of the IV's and his breathing tube as he jumped out of bed. He was down the stairs almost as fast as the Flash.

Clark, Ollie, Diana, Dinah, Barry and Bruce all stood there in their civilian identities. "No!"

He screamed. "You can't give up!"

"We'll never give up, Tim," Diana answered. "We just can't do this heavy of surveillance. It isn't working."

"But what else can we do?" he cried, then looked over at Clark. "Can't you just punch his guts out and make him tell you?"

"If only, Tim."

"Master Bruce," Alfred walked in briskly. "Sir."

"Yes Alfred?"

"Mr Harper and Miss Crock are downstairs waiting for you. They have urgent news, sir."

They all rushed down as quickly as they could to the Batcave. Roy and Artemis had large smiles on their faces.

Batman didn't bother asking, he just growled. Artemis shrunk back slightly.

"It's a good thing most of you left," Roy started. "Luthor dropped his guard a bit."

"Tell me everything right now."

* * *

It was like Christmas morning when Green Lantern showed up with the device in hand. The technology behind it was simple, but just not possible with the elements found on earth. It was used to subdue prisoners of war from other planets. To stop the affects, one had to simple "restart" the body. The tool Hal held would do that.

Luthor had still suspected he was being watched, but he wasn't the one that slipped. It was his partner in crime. All it took was the name of the alien technology and Green Lantern was off to the said planet as fast as he could. Thankfully the planet was not an enemy and was neutral to the cause and simple handed over the device for trades with Earth.

They had to hurry. If the victim had been unstabilized (the closest translation Hal could figure) for more than 3 turns of Garbzar (their home planet), then the cure could be useless. The damage to the body could not be undone.

They roughly guess that 3 turns was a little less than a week. Or a full week. They were not sure. But Nightwing had been out for the count for just a week and 10 hours. They had to hurry.

They couldn't all fit into the room, so the closest league members and members of Young Justice sat down in the Wayne manor living room.

Except Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, Dr Thompkins, Bruce and the three other bat children, who stood in the room waiting anxiously. J'onzz had telepathically received the instructions from GL and relayed it to a hesitant Leslie. They waited as Leslie stood close to the bed and together GL and MM readied that machine.

They used it on Dick, and his body convulsed, back arching and leaving the bed. The cure machine had apparently worked just like a defibrillator, and everyone was warned so no one flipped out when his body jerked.

They waited another moment.

And another.

Nothing happened.

* * *

My tumblr is awesome by the way ( .com) I'll follow you if you follow me. Also, anyone know where the tumblr accounts are the issue fanfiction and art challenges?


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey everyone! Sorry this chapter took me so long to write! Busy couple weeks with the holiday and stuff. So much freakin camping! And thank you for all he lovely reviews...gosh, they really make my day!**

* * *

If Batman and family were full of a bunch of dramatic teenagers, inevitably one of them would have cried out, fallen to the floor kicking and screaming or even gone as far as to jump on the bed and demand Dick to wake up.

No one moved.

"Are we too late?" Tim finally whispered, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

Bruce finally stepped forward past Green Lantern and Martian Manhunter, pulled up a chair and grabbed Dick's hand. He really didn't care that the others saw him showing affection, but for a moment it occurred to him that his eldest son may die.

But only for a moment.

"What else can we-"

"Wait," J'onn blurted out. "I sense something."

Dick still hadn't moved, and Bruce squeezed his sons hand tighter.

"Martian!" Damian growled. "Don't just leave it at that, you fool! What is happening?"

"Damian!" Bruce snapped, sending J'onn an apologetic glance.

The martian waited another moment before he spoke. He face was still as stone in a look of concentration as he stared at the young hero. Finally, he broke out into a grin.

"It worked," he sighed. "I feel his mind coming alive."

Tim let out a quiet cry of joy and Jason grinned. Damian did his signature 't-t' with a look of 'I told you so' and Bruce relaxed in his chair. Green Lantern took his leave quietly, knowing that his work was done. J'onn stayed.

"What now?" Bruce asked.

"I am not exactly sure." he replied honestly. "The brain activity is increasing steadily. I assume it will do so until he has regained all control, mind and body. Green Lantern was told that the individual should heal with no complications."

Bruce just nodded and then the alien took his leave as well.

"Good job, golden boy. Way to give us all a scare." Jason grumbled.

* * *

Later that day after the news of his recovery had spread and everyone could leave with peace of mind, the manor was finally quiet for the first time. Bruce was making his way back up the Dick's room to check the status when he walked in to see Leslie and Alfred leaning over his son with their hands on him.

"What has happened?" he demanded..

Leslie looked up, startled by his quiet entrance. "Bruce, nothing has happened. We are just moving him."

"Why?"

Alfred had his hands on Dick's knees and Leslie at his shoulders. Slowly they twisted him and flipped him over onto his side. "I don't want him to get pressure ulcers. I'm not sure how long before he'll wake up, and he's already been laying here long enough." Slowly she moved his arm from under him and placed it next to his head with the other draped over his side.

"Oh," Bruce made his way over as they tucked him in. "I was wondering if there was any change." He knew there was, of course, because the breathing machine was gone.

"He's recovering most of his body functions and I'm no longer worried about his blood pressure. No response when I tried to wake him."

"Is that-"

"Normal?" she interrupted, finishing her ministrations to her patient. "Yes. His body functions aren't 100% so I doubt his mind is too."

"Thank goodness," Alfred sighed. "Why would anyone want to do this to the young master?"

Bruce glowered. "He was trying to incapacitate me. Someone finally talked. You know his biggest threat is the Justice League? He considers me the brains, and he's smart enough to deal with the brawn. he thought that getting rid of me would allow the chance he needed to take down the Justice League."

"Thats quite the compliment," Leslie mused.

Bruce chuckled dryly. "He underestimates the League."

* * *

The next day Leslie came back and Bruce and Tim joined her in the room. Jason and Damian had finally given into the idea that it wouldn't hurt to pretend he could hear them, just in case. So they were sitting on the bed on either side of him watching the latest action movie.

"What is this rated?" Bruce asked, raising his eyebrow at Jason as he glanced between the two.

"Seriously?" Jason rolled his eyes. "You let him go out at night and hunt the worse of the worst, seeing all the violence a man can see...and you are concerned about what he is watching?"

Bruce shook his head and glared at him sternly, as if that answered the question.

"Fine, fine..." and he turned off the tv.

"Excuse me boys," Leslie said, shooing them off. With Bruces help they rolled Dick back onto his back. She checked the vitals, nodding in approval.

"Everything is looking real good so far," she said, mostly for the benefit of the boys in the room. Jason and Damian decided to stay to see what she was doing. She lifted his leg up and folded it, taking an instrument to it and hit his knee and smiled again when his leg jerked. She then leaned down and cupped his face with her hands.

"Dick." She cooed. "Dick sweetie, wake up."

She caressed his cheek lightly (in a very professional manner, mind you) and repeated herself a few times. After a couple of minutes she moved her hand down to just below his neck. She balled her fist and rubbed it along his collarbone.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked accusingly.

"I'm only trying to get a response out of him," she replied, unfazed by his tone. "Yes, it's a little painful, but it will allow me to see how deep he is."

She continued to rub it, and then she pressed harder as she did the next one. They were gifted with a low, mostly inaudible moan. Her smile was wide.

"I think he's on his way out of it. He wasn't responding this way yesterday," she beamed looking back at Bruce. "I'll stop by again tomorrow. Call me if he wakes up before then." And with that she walked out of the room. Tim happily stepped towards the bed.

"You hear that Dick? You are getting better. You'll be swinging around in no time," he grinned as he sat down in the chair. He leaned over and grabbed a book beside the bed and started to read it quietly to his older brother.

Bruce walked out after Leslie without a word and Damian's eyes followed him as he left. After a couple of minutes of waiting and listening to Tim rattle on about some kind of history book, he finally turned to Jason.

"We're clear. Turn the movie back on," he stated as Jason grinned mischievously. "I want to see how it ends."

* * *

Jason should have known it would be him. Sure, inwardly he was glad, but he kinda felt like the least adequate when it came to helping someone out. Especially if that someone was waking up from some kind of alien coma.

He'd just stepped inside to grab something he had left when in there last. Wasn't even going to stay and be moppy or happy or anything. It was as he was bending over the side of the bed when he saw a twitch out of the corner of his eye.

"Dick?" he exclaimed, sitting up. The figure on the bed didn't respond.

But Jason wasn't one who gave up easily.

"Yo, Dickie-bird," he tapped his cheeks. "Golden boy. Robbie- poo...you waking up, old man?"

Dick groaned in response, and his eyelids quivered.

"Hey!" Jason called, running to the doorway. "Alfred! Dick is waking up!" He hurried and ran back into the room. Now he had no idea what to do. Should he get him water? Tap his cheeks some more? Sit him up? What the heck was he supposed to do!?

Bruce came running in with Tim and Damian not far behind him. He ran straight to the bed and leaned over his eldest son.

"Dick!" he cupped his cheek. "Dick, can you hear us?"

He groaned some more and his eyelids fluttered open slightly. Not even half.

"That's it," Bruce encouraged. Tim ran to the other side and grabbed his hand. Bruce continued. "Hey Dick, how do you feel?"

After a moment Dick opened his eyes fully. They were glazed over and watery from being closed for so long, and Bruce doubted that he could see hardly anything at all. He just hoped that he recognized their voices.

"Nu-i asa?" he finally said, his voice rough and barely audible.

"What?" Tim asked, looking at Bruce confused. Bruce just gave him a comforting look.

"It's ok, Dick. You're at the manor. Do you remember anything that happened?"

Finally Dicks eyes widened suddenly and he pulled his hand out of Tim's. "Ce se întâmplă?... Cine ești tu? ...Unde sunt?" Before he could even finish the sentence, his eyes had started to close and his voice drifted off. Once he finished, he blinked a couple of times, his breathing evened out and he fell asleep once more.

"Uh..." Jason said dumbly. "Anyone know what happened?"

"He didn't know us, fool." Damian hissed. "He doesn't remember anything."

**Ummm...ya...I don't know Romani and neither does Google Translate. So you get to have a internet translation of Romanian instead**.

**Follow me on tumblr! Batfamily based with other heroes mixed in. ** .com


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry guys, last chap. Thank you for all the lovely reviews :) I hope to personally respond and thank you all, cause really...you are probably the only reason that has kept me going :D**

**Hope the ending doesn't disappoint anyone. I'll admit that my fav part is over, and really this is just a wrap up.**

* * *

The next time Dick woke he was still speaking in Romani. He stayed awake for a whole whoppin three minutes before promptly falling asleep again. That was a whole minute longer than the first time. He didn't have any energy to stay awake it seemed. Leslie assured everyone that he was doing just fine physically, and seemed to be improving otherwise. It was still just the waiting game.

Bruce and Damian were able to translate what he said afterwards both times. He was confused, asking what was going on. The second time Bruce had tried to ask him some questions to gauge where his memory was, but didn't get much out of him before he fell back asleep.

Since Tim didn't know how much longer this would last, if not for the rest of his life, he decided that he would pick up on some Romani so he could understand more. He was almost halfway into the book (speed reading and excellent memory) he had picked up at the Library yesterday when he heard another waking moan from the bed beside him. He reached over excitedly, touching his hand.

"Dick," he whispered, tapping the top of his hand. His brother opened his eyes and looked over at him, recognition still gone from his face. He was trying to remember how to ask "how are you" in Romani when Dick spoke.

"Where's..." he rasped, then gulped. "Where's Bruce?"

Tim almost knocked his chair over as he stood straight up. "Oh, Dick! You remembered!"

Dick didn't react except for scrunching his eyes tighter as he took a good hard look at Tim. Tim took this moment to run to the door and call for his adopted father. He then raced back to the bed.

Dick was still staring at him, scrutinizing every move.

"He'll be here in a sec, Dick," he patted his hand again. Then he added with an exhausted sigh. "Jeeze. You just made me spend a whole day and a half learning Romani, and I didn't even need to."

Again, he looked confused, and Tim wasn't surprised. He was so happy at the improvement that he could hardly care.

"Dick!" Bruce walked in quickly.

Dick's eyes lit up immediately. "Ok...so, I'm not dreaming?"

They were both confused and looked at each other for help.

The man in the bed continued. "I dreamt I flew through the air. Like a bird. A robin." And just as he finished, he was asleep.

* * *

The next day the oldest Bat son was sitting up in bed, drinking Alfred's famous coco as the family sat around his bedside.

"- and he was just sitting there as if nothing had even happened, even though we all saw it." Jason continued, laughing, as he recited some embarrassing story about Tim and some stairs earlier this week while Dick was out.

"I wasn't pretending," Tim pouted. "I just wasn't interested in talking about it."

They laughed and ignored him. Dick leaned back against the pillows, his head starting to feel foggy again. Over the last day he had made amazing improvements, finally the scattered thought in his head and in his dreams connecting and starting to make sense. According to his brother, he was basically himself. He seemed almost 100%, except for the fact that that his record for staying awake was 5 hours. Actually, looking at his bedside clock, it was 7 now.

"Looks like Dickie Bird is getting tired," Jason commented with a dry laugh. "Sleeping Beauty isn't done yet."

"Next time, you can get shot," Dick joked back. "Then we'll see how you feel."

"If that happens, keep Tim and his storybook time away from me."

Everyone laughed at that. Well, except Tim.

"Lets let Master Dick get his rest," Alfred said as he took the empty mug from Dick's hands. "He can see you all in the morning."

They all said their goodnights before heading off, though only unconsciously. Dick was probably the only one to notice. Jason gave him a wink and waved as he passed the bed. Tim shot him a smile and tapped his leg, giving a stretch. Damian stood by his side as the two previous walked out.

"No sleeping past 7, Grayson," He pointed out factually. "You're healed enough to start training again. Who knows what skills you've lost lazing around in this bed."

"I love you too, Dami."

"Just go to sleep!" Damian scowled and stomped out of the room.

It was then he noticed that Bruce hadn't moved from his spot next to him.

"They were all worried sick about you," Bruce finally said after a moment of silence. It seemed that Dick wasn't the only one that noticed his brother's behavior.

"I feel awful about worrying them," Dick frowned. "And I'm sorry about worrying you too."

Bruce's eyes hardened, and Dick knew that he had hit spot on the reason Bruce stayed behind. It was the first time they got to be alone since he woke up (well, at least was conscious).

"Dick," he started. "When I start as Batman...it was me against the evil's of Gotham. I didn't care what happened to me. I could sacrifice anything and everything to rid this city of the foul lowlife. Then you moved it. Things changed, and it was the two of us. I know I've made some mistakes in how I've raised you. I've put the mission before your well being more times than I would ever dream of admitting..."

He struggled for a second, thinking of the words. Dick stayed silent, listening.

"...but after Jason, Tim and Damian, I've slowly changed. I know you know this. It has brought us all closer. Heck, Jason has been staying here for more than a week! That wouldn't have been possible years ago. But things have changed for the better. The possibility of your death was too much to take."

Again, he stopped for more words and Dick smiled. These one to ones about feelings were definitely something he had to get used to with Bruce.

"Actually, is IS too much to take," he said finally. "You broke an important rule that day, Dick. You sacrificed yourself for me. That cannot ever happen, and I need you to promise me that you won't even DREAM of doing it again. I couldn't bare the idea of one of my sons dying for me. I would rather be dragged through the pits of hell a thousand times before I experience that."

It Bruce wasn't being so serious, Dick would have laughed. He held it in and reached over and patted Bruce on the leg, settling more into the covers since he felt he could hardly keep his eyes open.

"I'll make you a deal," he yawned. "If you promise you won't get put in a situation where I can stop you from being hurt or killed, then I won't do it again."

Bruce glared and Dick shrugged.

"What?" Dick laughed. "What are you going to do? Ground me? Take away my Nightwing suit? I can't make those kind of promises."

Bruce smiled, reaching into his back pocket. "I thought you would say that. So I brought along some...encouragement." Behind his back were handcuffs and Dick gasped and almost sat up.

"You wouldn't!"

"I would," he nodded. "You don't get to train, get out of this bed, flirt or do anything Dick Grayson likes to do until you promise."

"Stop acting like you're funny, Bruce!"

"I'm not laughing," he said, holding the cuffs in front of his wards face.

* * *

The brothers sat outside the room, listening to the whole thing. They silently laughed to themselves.

"Who do you think will win?" Tim asked.

"Whoever gives in first," Damian replied.

Again they laughed.


End file.
